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Plastic Casket
Made with care
Keep a lock of
Fine black hair

Tiny Coffin
Made with grace
Gaze upon
A haunting face

Into the ground
Lower his box
Below the soil
Wherein there lies

A tiny figure
Doomed to die
Without a valid
Reason why

Brought after exit
From the womb
A child bourne
Into his tomb

Plastic Casket
Redefines
A human being
Bourne to die
©2003-2009 ~-xxiv
:icon-xxiv:

Author's Comments

...

Comments


love 0 0 joy 0 0 wow 0 0 mad 0 0 sad 0 0 fear 0 0 neutral 0 0
:iconbrownshagcarpet:
that's sad... but it's a great poem!!!
:iconlilitheternity:
very beautiful, nice images you conjure up....

--
~...Breathing aint nothin' but something I forget to do from time to time...~
:iconwingstopboy:
Clap I'll be your huckleberry! Clap

--
"What Evil drives THE CAR!?"
:iconmachine-guts:
Very nicely written, very sad.

--
"And now I see with eye serene, the very pulse of the Machine." -William Wordsworth

Details

May 8, 2003
9.0 KB
200×346

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